


Pickpocket

by Unknown



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Allison Argent, Adult Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Dark Allison, Families of Choice, Family, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sam and Dean Winchesters Are Stiles' Cousins, Stiles Stilinski is a Winchester, Stiles is A Campbell, Supernatural AU - Freeform, peter still sucks, really brief and subtle though, sorta - Freeform, spn au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unknown/pseuds/Unknown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I felt like destroying something beautiful," Stiles says. Derek can understand that. "But I never wanted to destroy you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pickpocket

**Author's Note:**

> Just listen to Pickpocket by Kate Nash and holy shit. It is this fic. I love her so much. *sobs* Right. Title taken from her song. Obviously. 
> 
> This one turned out a bit like Tell Me We'll Never Get Used To It, so I mean. Read that or at least check out those warnings to get a feel of this fic. 
> 
> Story idea taken from high school me's brain. I never finished this back then, so I am now and damn. Go little me. Bless. Although, I had to type this all out from where I had WRITTEN IT OUT ON PAPER WITH A PEN???? Damn. Age-wise, I'm dating myself. So, I'ma stop.

_"I_ _felt like destroying something beautiful,” Stiles says from where he is pointing a gun full of wofsbane bullets at him. Derek, flicking a look to a crazed Allison, can understand that. “But I never wanted to destroy you.”_

_Stiles turns and shoots._

* * *

They’d taken down a chunk of his Pack all on their own. It had been for valid reasons, Derek knows, he’d been thinking of ways to humanely put the deceased down, but still. Reasons aside. It doesn’t make Derek hate them any less. Or try to, anyway. A half-deranged Erica is dead but Stiles and Allison maintain that she killed half a town before they were forced to put her down. Then they’d killed a delusional Lydia after the hex she’d cast on Jackson had killed _him._ Derek’s chest aches at those who were not strong enough to resist the pull of the moon, the evil that could course

Stiles, however, had put Peter down for fun.

“He bad-touched me,” Stiles says with a nonchalant shrug, an edge to his tone. There is something dead in his eyes.  Allison checks her gun absentmindedly, as though she is not paying attention to the conversation at hand. Any sympathy Derek might have felt for Pater disappears in an instant.

* * *

Allison is an Argent, a family name Derek knows all too well. Stiles, on the other hand, is a Stilinski, a decedent of the Campbell’s and Samuel Colt. The Campbell’s are famous for their grandchildren, Dean and Sam Winchester – Stiles’ cousins. Men who had, rumor has it, started and ended the Apocalypse. Derek wants to stay far from those two troublesome, codependent men. He tells Stiles as much.

“I don’t associate with them much,” is all Stiles has to say of his relatives. “Too much trouble.”

“Amen to that,” Allison intones. Derek doesn’t actually know what to make of them. They’re like no hunters he’s ever seen.

* * *

It’s not long after that Boyd leaves, but Derek’s not surprised. The only reason he stayed was for Erica and Erica only stayed because of some irrational loyalty to Isaac. Contrary to popular belief, Derek has no idea why Isaac has stayed.

“He likes you,” Stiles says. He’s around again, showing up on Derek’s doorstep out of nowhere after weeks of being MIA, ‘checking in on the supernatural community’ as he likes to say. At Derek's incredulous look, Stiles rolls his eyes and gives Derek a friendly shove. Derek doesn’t know when they got friendly. He can’t tell if he minds or not. “Not like _that_ ,” Stiles clarifies. “Like a _dad_. I’m guessing his real one sucked.”

Derek remembers Coach Lahey. He remembers Jackson ripping the guy’s throat out when they found out that the man was hurting a member of their Pack.

“Yeah,” Derek says scooting over on his own couch to let Stiles sit by him. The younger man is a line of warmth up against his side. Derek looks back to the television. “He sucked.”

* * *

“How did you get in the life?” Derek asks one night. He’d joined up with Stiles and Allison to take down a court of faeries that had been abducting people from town. They’d headed back to Derek’s and Isaac had started dinner while Allison showered and Derek and Stiles talked.

“Allison,” Stiles says with a shrug. Derek’s stomach twists in discomfort at that. Interesting.

“So you two are…?” he asks, trying not to stutter, and Stiles starts to laugh.

“God no!” he says. Derek doesn’t know why he gets a bit calmer at that, but he’s caught by the way Stiles’ amber eyes shine, so he lets it go. “No, see her boyfriend was a wolf. He was – was my best friend.” Stiles’ face goes a bit dark now, his eyes darting away.  “But he was bitten, you see. He thought he had control and we thought so too… until he killed her family and my dad.” Stiles shrugs. “So. We put him down. Couldn’t stay in town though. Too suspicious being the only living members of two simultaneously massacred families. We move around now, looking for jobs. Have been since I was sixteen.”

Derek contemplates this, then says, “Allison… Her aunt killed my family. Peter killed her in retaliation.”

Stiles just snorts at that, and Derek can’t hold it against him. “No way! Hey, it’s a small world.” He’s silent, looking behind them where the bathroom is, the shower still running, and Allison out of sight. He turns back to Derek and says, “I’m kinda afraid she’s gonna snap one day, to be honest. Neither of us was raised into this, no matter our heritage. But I’ve lost a loved one before, so I know how to deal. She just… lost everything in one go.”

“I can see why she’d snap,” Derek says. He takes a moment to worry whether or not she’ll snap on his two man Pack.

Stiles must follow his train of thought because he puts a hand on Derek’s shoulder and earnestly says, “Whoa man, _no_. If she snaps, she won’t be touching either of you. You have my word.” And though he looks and sounds genuine, Derek doesn’t know how much that’s worth but he’ll take it for now.

* * *

Vampires aren’t supposed to be real.

When Derek voices this opinion, Stiles just laughs and Allison beheads another one. There’s so much Derek isn’t prepared for, and this is one of them. But he learns a lot that night primarily that vampire bites are fatal to werewolves, unfortunately. Isaac is proof of this and Stiles stays up with Derek, sitting by Isaac until the young wolf passes quietly in the night. Derek doesn’t say anything until the sun comes up again, and even then his words are soft and his stare trained on the cooling corpse in front of him.

“He deserved better.”

“You _gave_ him better,” Stiles says, a hand on his shoulder. It seems to find its way there a lot lately. Now more than ever, Derek realizes he doesn’t really mind.

“Is this what you call _better_?” Derek says, standing up so fast his chairs slams into the floor. Isaac. Poor, innocent Isaac who deserved nothing of the shit life he was dealt. And Derek had failed to make it better. The guilt is heavy in his chest, thick in his throat. “He’s _dead_ because of me.”

“ _No!”_ Stiles yells, standing up just as fast. The only one around to hear is Isaac and both men know he won’t be waking. Allison… well, Derek has no idea where she went, and right now, he doesn’t much care. “He’s dead because of that _vamp_ ,” Stiles continues. “And you already bit the head off of that bastard, so it’s _done_. There’s nothing else _anyone_ can do.” Derek hates that Stiles is right. Hates that he’s a hunter with a moral code Derek agrees with. Derek hates him.

“Yeah?” Derek says with a crack in his voice, something else more tragic occurring to him. _Fuck_. “And what the hell am I going to tell his boyfriend?” Derek says, baring his fangs, baring his soul.

Stiles stares at him for a moment, taken by surprise, then says, “ _Fuck_.”

* * *

Allison quietly sets up the funeral. There’s a handful of people there, Danny among them. In the span of several months, he’s lost his best friend and boyfriend. Neither Jackson nor Isaac had deserved this.

“What the hell happened?” Danny asks, cornering Derek after the burial. They hadn’t told the young man too much of the details, but he knew it was Derek’s fault, knew Derek had been responsible for Isaac. “You were supposed to _watch out_ for him.” Derek can’t even look Danny in the face. “Nothing to say to me?” Danny says on the verge of tears. “Fuck you,” he whispers.

Derek expects the slap, expects the hollow feeling in his chest, and then Danny is gone. Derek doesn’t expect the warm hand on his shoulder steering him somewhere quiet and private so Derek can shudder and sob to his heart’s content if he wants to. But Derek just sits on the ground in the middle of the woods and drinks from a flask he pulls from his coat, booze lined with wolfsbane, and laughs and says, “I can’t cry. Isaac wouldn’t want me to cry.”

So Stiles steals his flask from him and drinks and laughs too.

* * *

Stiles shows up on his doorstep, duffle-bag slung over his shoulder. Derek’s a bit confused, but he’s come to trust Stiles enough to let the young hunter in.

“Allison’s on a solo hunt,” Stiles says with a shrug. “I think she wants to split.” He scratches the back on his neck. “I uh, need a place to stay while I figure out what to do next.” The house has been too quiet these days, Derek thinks, and he agrees with a nod.

“How long have you been hunting together?”

“A decade,” Stiles says easily. “This happens once every two years. She usually finds me after a month or two and we hit the road again.”

Derek hums. “She take the Jeep?”

“Nah. Probably hotwired something,” Stiles says. He tosses his bag in one of the guest rooms, along with a case that Derek can smell gun oil on. “Thanks. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“Take your time,” Derek says. It’s surprising because he means it.

* * *

Allison doesn’t come back in two months.

In fact, by the third month, Stiles gives up trying to get ahold of her.

“She’ll come back when she’s ready,” he insists, but Derek can see how it’s taking a toll on him. So while Stiles goes out on hunts in nearby towns, Derek tries to make his little apartment feel more like home for him. He doesn’t know why since he technically doesn’t owe Stiles anything, but the guy keeps coming back, so Derek figures he’d might as well, since that means he’s not alone.

Derek thinks Stiles appreciates the homemade meals and his own room. It used to be Lydia’s, but Derek has no use for it now. The things he does for Stiles make him feel better, feel complete and its weird because he’s never felt that way before. Everything he’s been taught is screaming for him to stop, that Stiles is a hunter, that he’s the enemy. And yet.

Derek knows that Stiles would rather die than kill an innocent and Derek has a feeling that includes _him_.

* * *

Then again, maybe he’s wrong.

It had been a normal night, five months after Allison disappeared. Stiles had come in from a hunt, filthy and bloody, tired. Honestly, Derek had been a bit concerned that he was going to break-down and cry. Or shoot him. But it had been instinct, literal, unknown-before-now instinct – because deep down, Derek is a being that wants only to care for and protect those he cares about – to wrap Stiles up in his arms, trying to hold him together as well.

He had kissed him.

And now, Derek is _terrified_ and hates them both, but then Stiles opens his mouth and presses back. He tastes like blood and decay, but Derek wonders if that’s what life tastes like too – a living force and a fatal one.

“Finally,” Stiles practically whimpers and Derek goes hot all over at that. “Don’t freak out, but I’ve been ogling your ass since we ganked Lydia. Living with you didn’t help. At all.”

Derek has nothing to say, but the sex is rough and satisfying, fills something inside him and it keeps happening to the point where Stiles moves his things into Derek’s room a month later and Derek realizes his shit has slowly just been accumulating.

Stiles smiles when he finally notices. Derek does too.

* * *

It’s not conventional, what they have going, but it works. They hunt together and go home together and realize that they both have something to live for, past hunting and doing the job. They go up against a witch a state over and Derek finds the strength not to give up when they’re really down for the count because he knows Stiles is locked away in her creepy house of horrors somewhere. They go against a horde of demons and Stiles kills every single one of them to get to a knocked out Derek. Later, he tells Derek that he needed someone to go home to and that someone was Derek.

It works.

It doesn’t mean others don’t talk.

Oh, the rumors are everywhere. A monster that hunts his own kind and a hunter that’s taken up with him. Some hunting circles don’t mind. The Winchesters have done worse. Others refuse to work with them, convinced that Stiles will take after his relatives and start up the next apocalypse with the way he’s going. Mostly, they keep to themselves, only reaching out when they really need to, and only then to Stiles’ estranged family.

A meet-up hunt with the Winchester brothers and the angel that follows them a few weeks later is quiet and simple. Stiles’ and the brothers’ fighting styles are different, but they work together quite well and they treat Derek with respect. That much Derek can appreciate.

He does overhear the oldest speaking to Stiles late at night after the hunt, though.

“You know what they’re saying out there, right?” Dean Winchester says to his younger cousin. Derek hears the rustle of a coat as Stiles shrugs.

"So? It’s exactly what happened with you and Cas. Not a big deal,” is his response.

“Yes, a big deal,” Dean hisses. “Look man, I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life. We lost a lot of allies when me and Cas got together, okay? And we only got some of them back cos he’s an angel. He’s holy, or whatever.” More rustling, and Derek thinks Dean is pointing now. “That guy you’ve shacked up with? Grade-A monster material, Stiles.”

“What are you suggesting?” Stiles bristles.

“Hey,” Dean concedes. “I’m not saying he’s gonna pull anything. I see the way he looks at you. But…” Now Dean trails off. “There’s been other rumors. Hunters who think he’s too dangerous. Not trustworthy if he’s going against his own kind.”

“Monsters in general aren’t his own kind Dean,” Stiles snaps and Derek has to bite his lip to keep himself from cheering Stiles on.

“So? That ain’t the point. The point is that they might threaten him. And if they’re threatening him, you sure as hell know they’re gonna be threating you.” Dean stops, sighs. “Call us. If you need us.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles says, but it doesn’t sound too convincing to Derek’s ears.

“He is right, you know.” Derek jumps and turns. The angel is standing there, eyes almost glowing blue in the dark. Derek doesn’t like the smell of him. It’s ozone and fire and incense and light. It’s other and ethereal.

“I can take care of myself,” Derek grunts.

“I do not believe it is you that Dean is worried about,” Castiel says pointedly.

“I can take care of Stiles, too.”

“Regardless. The offer still stands.” And then he’s gone.

By the morning, Dean and Sam Winchester have cleared out, their boat of car gone. The angel has stayed gone as well. Stiles doesn’t bring up the conversation with Dean and the air around the apartment still smells wrong.

* * *

Of all the people to come for them, Derek can’t say he’s surprised that it’s Allison. She was bound to show up at some point and in his opinion, once an Argent always an Argent.

But Stiles, Stiles is surprised and betrayed and when Derek wakes up from being knocked out when he walked out of the bathroom that afternoon, he’s heartbroken to see Stiles with tears down his face as he stares at Derek where he’s tied to a chair with wolfsbane laced cuffs, a circle of Mountain Ash tree ash around him. Allison has a gun in her shaking hands and her eyes are wide and crazed, glazed over and unseeing. She’s screaming at Stiles, begging him to explain to her how he could do such a thing, be with such a monster, a monster that killed his father and friend, her family, _his family, how could he?_

“Allison, please, stop,” Stiles begs, but the second he takes a step forward, she turns the gun on Derek and yells. Stiles stops, hands in the air.

“I trusted you,” Allison says to Stiles. Stiles looks as though he’s been slapped across the face. “I thought I could leave, like always. Come back and we’d go. But here you are. Here you are, Stiles!” she yells, jabbing the gun in Derek’s direction. His heart is in his throat and he wants to say, _This is what becomes of all hunters, in the end – they lose it, they just lose it and she’s losing it, Stiles run!_ but he stays quiet, because if she kills him, it will hurt Stiles more than him walking away. And he doesn’t want Stiles to end like this, heartbroken and alone and so lost in his own mind, but he also knows that Stiles can never go back to what he was before he got into the life.

“Allison, whatever nasty things you’ve heard about Derek, they’re lies. They are lies, Allison. Hunters being afraid. Don’t let them scare you, please, Allison please!” Stiles yells as she shoots around Derek’s feet. He holds his tongue. He’ll be damned if he shows any weakness to her. “Allison, he’s helped us. He didn’t kill your parents, Scott did and Scott’s dead.”

“Did you know,” Allison says, voice faint and so very, very lost. “Did you know, Stiles, that Peter Hale, his uncle, turned Scott? Derek’s own _Alpha_ was responsible.” She cackles and it’s terrifying. “He’s part of the family that killed mine.”

“And you’re part of the family that killed his!” Stiles yells. Allison stops, snaps her head behind her to look at Stiles. “And now everyone who killed anyone on either side is dead. Don’t add to the blood, Allison. All that bad blood. It’s been cold for years – won’t you let it dry?” Stiles, he sounds desperate. Whatever Allison had been doing these months she’s been gone – looking into their collective pasts, listening to rumors, going crazy – it’s led to this. And maybe they can’t stop her.

“You’re on his side. You’re on his side!” she yells. “I thought we were family, Stiles. I thought we would stick together, why did you lie?” She points the gun at Stiles now and Derek strains against the burning restraints. Not Stiles, anything but Stiles.

“We are, Allison, we are. I’ll do anything you want. Let’s just leave this and go. Let’s just go, Allison,” Stiles begs and it hurts but Derek understands that Stiles wants him alive, even if they can’t be together. So he lets the pain simmer. “Let’s just go, me and you.”

“You’ll do anything I want,” she murmurs.

“Yes, yes, Allison. Just – just don’t kill him, alright? You’re better than this.”

“Don’t kill him,” she mutters. “Alright. Okay. Let’s go.” Stiles sighs in relief and Derek does too. “But first, you have to promise me, promise you’re still with me. That we’ll stop all of those monsters, Stiles. All of them. We’ll kill them all.” She sounds broken. Like a record. Derek’s blood goes cold. Stiles looks uneasy.

“We stop those who do wrong, remember? We protect those who can’t protect themselves. We have a code.” Stiles flicks a look to Derek.

“We’ll stop them all,” she insists, walking toward him with lumbering footsteps. “We’ll kill them all.”

“Okay,” Stiles concedes. “Whatever you want. Let’s just go.”

“We’ll kill them all,” she says and gives Stiles the gun. He takes it, relief coloring his face. Then she shoves him at Derek. Stiles stumbles, but catches himself, looking at Derek in surprise. “Starting with him.”

 “Allison-”

“You said I couldn’t kill him. You didn’t say you couldn’t kill him. Do it, Stiles. Do it, Stiles! _Do it!”_

Stiles is shaking. Derek… well, he feels at peace. If he’s going out, he’s glad it’s this way. The last thing he gets to see is the face he loves so much.

“I felt like destroying something beautiful,” Stiles says from where he is pointing a gun full of wofsbane bullets at him. Derek, flicking a look to a crazed Allison, can understand that. “But I never wanted to destroy you.”

Stiles turns and shoots.

* * *

They burn Allison’s body in the woods and leave Beacon Hills with the fires still licking at the sky. Stiles calls the Winchesters and arranges for them to stay in their Men of Letters bunker for a while until things in the hunting community have calmed down and they can get back on their feet. As long as they keep Derek’s wolf abilities quieter than usual, Sam thinks they’ll be fine after everything settles.

It’s a long drive to the brothers, but they get in Derek’s Camaro and go without looking back.

“You could have died back there,” Stiles says.

“So could you,” Derek responds. They’re quiet, then he says, “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t let her go, not the way she was. Not with what she was asking me to do.” Stiles catches his eye. “Not to you.”

Derek swallows hard and looks out to the road, focusing on it with more attention than it deserves. He grits his teeth. But then, he removes a hand from the steering wheel, puts it on the console between them and waits with baited breath until Stiles takes it into his own hand and squeezes it with all he’s worth. Derek exhales slowly, his breath shaking. Then he allows himself a small smile. Stiles squeezes his hand again.

They drive on.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles' line about "bad blood" is taken from the song Bad Blood by Bastille. Btw.


End file.
